Photo by Hans Bruesch

“Tonight I’m just too tired to pray
Last night I swore I’d pray today
Tomorrow I know what I’ll say
There’s just no time to find the way
The hourglass is spilling sand
I wish that you could understand
I share that wish
You really do?
A love like this will bleed the truth”
–”I’m Sure Of It” by Blanche

As many of you know or probably just naturally guessed, I have just started my second semester of college. Now, I could very well just rant about the annoyances of college bureaucracy, For instance, two of my classes getting canceled right out from under me, wondering how many classes are going to transfer…Fun stuff like that. But I am going to talk about something that tends to fly very under the radar on the list of school irritants.

I’m sure quite a few of you have had to deal with teachers butchering the pronunciation of your name, being called the wrong name entirely, or professors just not being able to remember your name at all without the help of the roster. The first class you either have your name totally butchered unless it something as easy “John Smith” or have the entire class learn that your real first name is not “Paul” but “Penisface.”  Usually, after this the professor will ask if you have a nickname or go by something else.

My name, as it appears in the school registry and therefore on all of my professors’ rosters, is my female birth name, which is then read out for the whole class to hear, by default answering the question to the class of what my “actual” sex is (despite my purposely androgynous appearance). At this point I have two options:

• A: Correct the professor and ask that I be called “Levi,” therefore confusing my professor and classmates, and setting myself up to be questioned, possibly ridiculed.  To say nothing of the idea of asking them to use male pronouns…That just might push things over the edge.
• B:  Don’t correct the professor and have to deal with the false assumptions about my identity.  I am able to fly under the view of unwanted attention.

I, of course, chickened out every single class and did not say anything, which is the same thing I did the previous semester.  I’m not exactly proud of this fact; there are people around the world who stand courageously for who they are and suffer the abuses and chance of injury and/or death.

To be honest, I’m scared.  I currently go to the community college in my area (yeah yeah, not exactly Princeton but it is affordable and ranked highly) and not only do I still live in my hometown, but regularly see on campus people I went to high school and Catholic primary school with (including some of the people who only a year ago would taunt, tease, and threaten me).  Information travels quickly, especially in a tight-knit area.  I’d rather get through this period with as little difficulty as possible…Does this make me a bad trans and queer person for remaining mostly closeted?

Will it be different when I eventually transfer out in another year and get away from my past?  The semester is still early and I’m still pretty anonymous within the class. Should I email my professors and tell them about my true identity?  Anyone with experience in this is welcome to comment or email me.